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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132757">The Fair Days</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButtercupsMagician/pseuds/ButtercupsMagician'>ButtercupsMagician</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Assassin!Duilin, F/F, F/M, Gondolin, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Mutual Pining, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:48:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132757</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButtercupsMagician/pseuds/ButtercupsMagician</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Life in Gondolin has been good for so many years, it was easy to forget how much of a luxury it was that romance was the biggest problem. Ecthelion and Glorfindel dance around each other for years, Rog and Duilin are in more of an open conflict, and Idril knows what she wants and has no problem taking it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Duilin of Gondolin/Rog, Ecthelion of the Fountain/Glorfindel, Galdor of the Tree/Original female Character, Idril Celebrindal/Maeglin | Lómion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Rog and Glorfindel are competitive,<br/>Ecthelion and Egalmoth suffer.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>„Oh no Rog, your people organized the opening ceremony last year! It’s our turn now!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ecthelion put his face in his hands as Glorfindel rose out of his chair, fiery eyes on Rog, who in turn also rose. The elf threw a look at the other end of the table, where Duilin und Galdor seemed to mirror his sentiment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not my fault that your concept is worse than ours! And we won the most contests last year, we should be allowed to hold the opening ceremony this year!” Rog shouted back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That has never been relevant…” Egalmoth whispered beside him and Ecthelion nodded along.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The drinking contest is not even a real contest!” Glorfindel threw at Rog, who narrowed his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re just saying that because you lost.” The dark haired elf spat, pointing his finger at Glorfindel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ecthelion heard Egalmoths head beside him hitting the back of the chair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not that again.” The colourful elf moaned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was no fair contest.” Glorfindel hissed, “Maeglin told me how the gamemaker gave you less filled cups than me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rog turned towards the nephew of the king, who raised his hands in a gesture of innocence,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t look at me like that, everybody saw it, don’t pull me into this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, why don’t you just do a rematch?” Salgant proposed, silencing the room. Duilin took a sharp breath as did Ecthelion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” The Captain said decidedly, drawing the looks of everyone else in the room. He looked at Rog and then at Glorfindel, who held his stare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Glorfindel said slowly before turning back to Rog.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rematch for the opening ceremony. Tomorrow evening, Egalmoths place.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Lord of the hammer of wrath grinned true to his fashion, all dark and ember in his eyes, “Can’t wait to see you lose.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Prepare yourself for a long wait then.” Glorfindel shot back and sat back down, the fiery expression on his face not yet vanishing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you done then?” Turgon raised his voice, “I would have you not make it as big an event as last year-“ at which he pointedly looked at Egalmoth, “Harvest starts soon and we can’t have our people injured now. Speaking of – Idril, reports from the wing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The princess continued to speak of her reports from what was essentially her own house, when only not in name. She spoke of healers in training that did well, a lower rate of injuries during training from soldiers and overall a well stocked hospital.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ecthelion looked at the other elves at the table as the sun slowly sunk and less and less light fell through the tall windows that surrounded half the meeting room with the big roundtable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maeglin, who looked paler and thinner every week, as Ecthelion realized, was taking notes as Rog spoke with Idril over safety requirements for the smiths and mine workers, as their jobs were the main source of injuries beside the soldier training. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blond elf at his side was rather silent, his eyes following the exchange, but Ecthelion knew all to well his ‘lost-in-thought’ face. He hoped secretly that his friend regretted the decision to challenge Rog to another drinking contest. To be true, the gamemaker did give him more than Rog, but even then everyone knew the lord of the hammer of wrath was only bested by Tulkas in a drinking contest. No sane elf would challenge someone who was second to a valar.</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sane</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He studied Glorfindels profile, his golden hair was wild and fell in thick unorganized curls all over him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, Ecthelion told himself, he was not, in fact, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sane</span>
  </em>
  <span>. By noldori standards he was far from it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked over at Penlod, ever composed and attentive, the elf was a shining example of grace and control. He didn’t mean that as an insult to Glorfindel, he could certainly measure up to it when expected to, but his inherent nature was far more lightly, merry and overall just almost unbearable bright. His vanyarin upbringing certainly showed in his openness and the way he gave his affection easily. Idril had this air of light around her too, he contemplated, she too carried this open compassion, but the noldori steel was clearly visible in her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, he decided for himself, thinking back on how utterly wrecked Glorfindel had looked after the last drinking contest with Rog, he would not let it come to that again. He would talk to his friend after the meeting was over and talk him out of it. He was stubborn, but then again, from time to time he actually listened to what Ecthelion had to say. He just hoped it would be one of these times today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the meeting finally ended after the sun had long since disappeared, Glorfindel all but sprinted out of the room, leaving Ecthelion trying to stand up quickly, but then Egalmoth was in his path and he only saw the blond mane disappear behind the door to the stairs. He huffed and gave the colourful elf a glare. “Can it wait, Egalmoth? I need to catch him as quickly as possible.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know he likes you best, but not even you will be able to talk him out of this. You could rather make Salgant go hunting.” The elf crossed his arms, rainbow coloured sleeves shifting in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That would be less disastrous too. You know how it ended.” Ecthelion deadpanned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who doesn’t.” Egalmoth said, shrugging. “Let him try it, worst case is he is drunk again and loses, fair game this time. Best case, he wins, his house gets to do the opening ceremony. Either way I see no reason for a third contest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which is good, but you didn’t have to carry him home last time, he was really sick.” Ecthelion stressed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Indeed, I did not.” Egalmoths said, “I had to clean up the place after Rog decided to build swings from the curtains and chandeliers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ecthelion closed his eyes for a second and remembered that that had actually happened. “Yes, I forgot. Has he repaired the main chandelier by now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Took him two months, but he did. It’s even a bit prettier and way sturdier now, although the last part lets me think that he might try to do something like this again in the future.” Egalmoth rubbed his neck, “I am thinking about what to do with the curtains in the main hall, I think I might let them be taken down for tomorrow. Just for safety.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ecthelion nodded, “Yes, please do that. If you would excuse me now, I would rather try it my way first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Egalmoth stepped aside, “Of course, see you tomorrow my friend.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ecthelion waved goodbye and walked fast. He hoped to catch the golden haired elf before he reached his house and that Egalmoth didn’t hold him up for too long, but he had no such luck. As he left the gates of the palace, the blond haired elf was nowhere to be seen. There were still many elves on the streets, chattering lowly and walking leisurely, a few of them even blond, but not the kind of spun sunlight he looked for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He contemplated whether he should just follow him to his house, but then again, maybe it was better to let him calm down for a bit before he tried to persuade him. He knew how stubborn his friend was. He planned to go over after dinner but got caught up with documents again that Orchalwe delivered to him, keeping him up half the night with statistics about water levels in the sewers and tanks, the raised strain on their water supply by the growing population.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ecthelion is jealous, Duilin loves knifes, Penlod ist smart, Galdor is the dad-est dad, Glorfindel suffers and Rog is delighted.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next morning he was up at sunrise anyway, a little tired and stressed, but more determined than ever, and walked over to the house of the golden Flower. True to it’s name the great main house was surrounded by flowerbeds filled with celandine, the sign of the house boldly embedded into the great window that was placed over the main entrance. A few elves clad in gold, white and green passed him, greeting him happily. He nodded back at them, he was well known and beloved there, as he was one of Glorfindels closest friends and often a guest. He took the side stairs to the lords apartment, when a rather disorganized, dark haired elf came down the stairs. When his eyes met Ecthelions for a second he blushed, rushing down the stairs beside him and vanished. The lord of the fountain hesitated, that elf’s hair had been in disarray and his clothes rumpled. He felt a familiar sensation burning up in him, he had not thought to meet one of his friends playthings this early in the morning. Did he let them stay the night now? Or maybe he wasn’t just a plaything if he stayed the night? Surely Glorfindel would tell him if he had found a lover, would he? He looked up the stairs to the golden emblazed door, determined to question him about it, but then he remembered, since that incident two years ago his friend had not shared anything about lovers. He turned around just as he heard the door opening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ecthelion?” Glorfindel sounded surprised and the elf couldn’t stop himself from looking up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was just leaving.” He said and Glorfindel's face fell a bit, no doubt realising whom he had crossed on the stairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you come?” He asked and Ecthelion shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had hoped to talk to you about your contest with Rog.” He said. “You know it is foolish, he is unbeaten except for Tulkas. Nothing good will come from it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was cheated last time, Ecthelion. Only because he was not beaten yet doesn’t mean it will never happen.” The blond elf said, squinting his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ecthelion stared at him, “Why the need for competition? Are you bored from your responsibilities or do your lovers not bring you enough thrill?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glorfindel had turned instantly and shut the door behind him loudly, before Ecthelion even had realized what just slipped his mouth. “Morgoth be damned.” He murmured to himself before finally turning and leaving, kicking the stair in front of him. The elves in the main hall gave him a wide berth as he practically fled the house.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did not mean to lash out like that and was immediately ashamed by his lack of control. He should be better than that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took his sweet time this evening drowning in self pity and trying to come up with reasons why he should not attend the contest that had half the guard excited, but then Duilin was at his door, casually toying with one of the knives that might have been part of his bracelet, and he had no choice but to come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw the light in your window on my way there. Were you not planning to attend?” He asked, letting the knife disappear and petting the little swallow on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was just getting ready, I had something to attend to and it took more time than I thought it would.” Ecthelion evaded, forward at the street. White stone illuminated by silver lanterns, elves sitting on the benches between the houses, under the trees and beside the flowerbeds. He looked at the children playing on a small place to the side before he looked back to Duilin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is your sister fairing? I haven’t seen her in a while?” He asked, seemingly pulling the silver haired elf out of his thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, she is fine. She spends much time in the small gardens and with the birds, her pregnancy will soon be over, as the healers say. Idril was with her today. Before midsummer, she said.” Duilin smiled, “Aewenor and little Daeron are very excited too, my nephew can’t wait for his sibling.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That are great news, will you hold a celebration like you did for Daeron?” He asked, smiling back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holding a celebration? My friend, you know that has never been my idea, but dear Egalmoth’s, who enjoys celebration before all else. Alas, I fear I can not not celebrate, as no matter what I do, there will be a feast anyway.” He laughed, looking at the brightly lit house they were nearing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ecthelion joined him for a moment, “No, so much is true. He is as colourful and bright as a person as his clothes.” Music got louder as they passed the gates of Egalmoths house, colourful banners spanning over the entrance and lanterns with multicolored glass hanging from the white stone walls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, listen, we missed Salgants playing!” Duilin cried out, as they recognized the music from inside not to be a single singer but a lot of voices carrying a merry tune about a drunken teleri on a boat. For all his shortcomings in strength Salgant was not the most renowned harpist in Gondolin for nothing, his playing often managed to bring silence onto the whole market place, even at the busiest times. Elves would hold still and breath and listen to him play.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hadn’t realized we were this late.” Ecthelion noted and opened the door for Duilin beside him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me neither, but I must hurry then, I had promised Galdor to play his stick game with him.” The elf smiled at Ecthelion then vanished in the crowd. Even the entrance hall was filled, opening in three huge arches into the main hall with the coloured glass ceiling. From the construction of silver bars under it hang a magnificent chandelier and Ecthelion paused for a moment. Egalmoth had not been jesting when he said the new one was even more beautiful than the one before, but now that he saw it, it took a breath away. Instead of clear glass pendants it held sharply cut brandished pendants that threw rainbows all over the walls and different coloured glass held the candles. This was truly the origin of the heavenly arches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as he thought this must be the most beautiful thing in this room, he lowered his gaze and spotted a group at the other end of the group. He saw Glorfindel already decked out in golden finery, white shawl and hair finely combed but loose as always, was sitting with Egalmoth and Rog at a table. Penlod stood at the side, hands behind his back, watching, tall and straight as always. There was a distant feeling of dread pouring in his stomach as he approached. Rog’s was smiling so wide that his mouth looked almost unreal, teeth just a bit too sharp for comfort, he was laughing loudly as Glorfindel coughed and Egalmoth, decked in a multitude of colorful and glittering bands that somehow formed a kind of shirt that was covering just enough, patted his back in a sympathetic manner. Ecthelion stopped beside Penlod and watched them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” He asked and Penlod smiled his sharp smile, blue eyes shining with mirth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He got distracted.” He answered, raising his chin in Rogs general direction and Ecthelions eyes widened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside the lord of the hammer two elves decked in red sheer finery, obviously oiled and almost glowing with their bronze skin and dark hair that was over and over decorated with golden ornaments and red jewels, held a bowl of fruit and a pitcher. They looked strangely out of place, as scarcely dressed as they were, yet like taken straight out of a dream. Ecthelion had to admit, they looked downright tempting and he couldn’t help the slow heat that crawled up the back of his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He cheats again.” Ecthelion said amused, almost coughing, and Penlod smiled, winking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, of course he does.” He said, looking over at Glorfindel who’s head was red but determinedly swallowed the cider Egalmoth handed him. “They turned up two rounds ago and randomly started flexing and he was holding up quite well, but it seems his thoughts have caught up to him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ecthelion eyes the elves again, then he recognizes them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t that Meg and Brecthel?” He asks and Penlod actually looks at him now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was not aware you knew them, but yes. They often work for me as they specialize in … collecting information in the outer perimeters.” Penlod supplied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, spies, Ecthelion thought, drawing the connection between the scars on their bodies and the rather sad past many of Rogs people shared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, they helped one of my chief constructors with the new water system in the lower west parts of the city last winter. But if I remember correctly, they are both married?” Ecthelion said, knowing Penlod knew about the breakthrough to a natural cave they had patched up while the elves from Rogs house distracted the orcs and made sure no information made it outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penlod didn’t answer with words, but smiled his sharp smile again before looking back at the table, which made Ecthelion feel strangely transparent. There were few chats with Penlod when he didn’t feel like he had just exposed himself fully, this was not one of them. He looked back at Rog and Glorfindel, was he that easy to see through? Considering Egalmoth the day before and Duilin picking him up it seemed so. Whether Rog knew too? Was this teasing for him as well? He shook his head, no matter if he did, nothing would come of it. He would not fall for such simple traps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He left the circle and went searching for Galdor and Duilin, wanting to join them in their game. He was up for some less boisterous celebration now. He found them in the inner court at a small table with Idril, who had a lot more sticks laying in front of her than there were anywhere else. As she looked up she smiled at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ecthelion! It is good you are finally here! Come, come!” She waved him over and he followed, coming to stand beside her chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Princess?” He asks, lightly confused but she had already risen out of her chair and pushed him towards it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come, take my place in this place, I need to go dancing. Come Maeglin!” She was up and about in a flurry of golden hair and blue dress, Maeglin swiftly and closely following her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ecthelion sat down in the chair, greeting Galdor who seemed in a merry mood, raising his wineglass in a cheer. An elf put a glass down beside him and Ecthelion joined their game. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some of my nobles have asked for a gathering, my friend, end especially for your company.” Galdor mused a few minutes later. “Dou you remember Carasiel? According to her mother she does not stop talking about you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ecthelion laughed, “Believe me, I have my fair share of them too. Young maidens longingly sitting at the fountains, throwing petals into the water. One of my chief constructors is quite the gossip and I think he has a ranking list for the most desired bachelors.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, do pray tell!” Galdor laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ecthelion shook his head but obliged, “Bear with me, I have not memorized all of them. Obviously Glorfindel is leading. I think if I had to draw a line everytime someone sighes as he walks by, the whole city would be coal black. I was surprised to hear I was second in the ranking, but Maeglin is in third place. He is much desired for his strangeness, I think. Many of the younger elves long to know the world outside the walls of our city.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, many of my recruits only joined the archers to be sent on border patrol, they think they can explore and seek adventures. But I rather think someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span> has … dips. On him. Not that he has eyes for anyone else anyway.” Duilin added, slowly drawing a stick out of the pile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ecthelionsighed, then shook his head again, “No comment on that, she does as she pleases- “ Duilin raised an eyebrow at him, “ I miss traveling the shores of the western land, waking to the smell of the sea, but the land here is not kind. Especially after lady Aredhels disappearing it should be widely known.” Ecthelion finished, drawing his brows together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, the woods here are not the same.” Galdor agreed, “In the west the forest was kind and full of light, life thriving everywhere, Beleriands woods are cold and dark. I do not regret not going with the lady, except for the chance to enter Doriath maybe. The stories your swallows tell make me curious. I had listened to Yavannas songs in the west, but none spoke of a wall that could keep a whole kingdom safe.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He starts singing then, his low and baritone voice like leaves but also bending trees, making Ecthelion shiver as Galdor tells of growth and growing strong even in the night. The plants in the flowerbed beside him bloom as the tune began carrying in strength and Ecthelion watched him, feeling the song deep inside him and he joined him with humming. Duilin started whistling and soon a small group of lightningbugs flew over their heads. When Galdors song ended he looked a bit less merry but more content, like someone reliving good memories from a very distant time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was beautiful, my friend. When did you compose this?” Duilin asked him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t, actually. It is my wifes song, she sings it sometimes when the baby keeps her up.” He said, putting his glass down. “Speaking of- I think I will retire now.” He looked to the middle entrance to the court where a tall noldori woman in deep green gown stood with a young, sleeping elven child in her arms. Tilien waved at them as Galdor came over to her and picked the child out of her arms and gave his wife a soft, lingering kiss that spoke of a long intimacy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ecthelion watched them leave and he felt a little sting and washed the hurt down with wine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he looked up again Duilin eyes him, then shook his head. Ecthelion had the words already on his tongue, but stopped himself, huffing, saving them both the breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it this obvious then?” He asked instead, reaching for the pitcher to refill his glass. Duilin threw back the last of his wine and held it out for a refill as he answered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, only if you know what to look for. And especially not when ones own head is not too far up their own ass.” he laughed humourlessly, leaning back and looking down his cup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ecthelion hummed, watching Duilin closely. There was a thin edge to his smile, his knuckles just a bit too white for the usually so precise and controlled elf. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” Ecthlion said, “Who is it?” Duilins eyes flashed up, the violet almost too bright for the darkness, his mouth twitched in irritation, but he stayed silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ecthelion took a deep breath and let his head fall back, that was about everything their spymaster would share for the evening, in words at least. They shared another few cups in companionable misery, before a loud roaring from the inside made them look up. Cheering followed, then the sound of something breaking. He let his head fall into his hands and silently counted to ten until he had composed himself enough to face whatever was going on inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he looked back up Duilins chair was vacated. The roaring and cheering got louder as he crossed the inner courtyard swiftly and pushed himself through the groups of elves blocking the hallway and door to the main hall. Another loud crash of something breaking, he pushed through to the middle of the circle that was formed, only to see Rog and Glorfindel, dressed down to their trousers and boots, gripping each other by the shoulders and pushing. There was blood on Glorfindel's back and Rogs arms. Ecthelion looked to the side, seeing shards of what might have been a vase or a bottle once, littering the floor, blood in between. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost asked the elf beside him why they were fighting, when he spotted Duilin on the other side of the circle, eyeing him sharply, making a gesture with his fingers. Ecthelion nodded, Duilin stepped forward, and they both moved. Just as Rog seemed to bring Glorfindel out of balance and throw the golden haired elf to the side, Ecthelion ran by, hauling Glorfindel by the waist, carrying out his momentum, while Duilin sidestepped Rogs movement, gripping his arm, ducking under, pulling him along, flipping him over his back, and kneeling there with the elfs arm secured behind his back. Ecthelion was sure there were some glass shards still on the floor and winced in sympathy as Rog growled.</span>
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  <span>Glorfindel turned, slower and less coordinated, basically hanging in Ecthelions arms, his face flushed as he glared at Ecthelion.</span>
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  <span>“Let me go.” He demanded, trying to get upright, pushing at the others arms, but Ecthelion held him in the dip. </span>
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  <span>“This is over.” Ecthelion told him,  giving in the next time Glorfindel pushed himself up. The blond elf rushed out of the room, hair trailing behind him and masses parting before him. Ecthelion threw a look over at Rog and Duilin, the former already pushed out of the dissolving ring, and decided to follow. The parting behind Glorfindel hadn’t closed as Ecthelion hurried to follow him out into the gardens, fueled by irritation. The angry elfs hair glowed bright enough to follow him through the high bushes and flowered arches easily.</span>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
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    <p>“Glorfindel, wait!” He yelled after him, not slowing down said elf in the slightest.</p><p>Glorfindel took the winding path into the back part of the yard, almost a maze of high rose bushes, small trees, iron arches with small lanterns. He followed, turning his irritation into bubbling frustration, he cursed to himself. A relaxing evening, he just wanted one damned relaxed evening.</p><p>Why couldn’t Glorfindel stay away from the stupid contests? What did he want to prove?</p><p>“Hey!” He sprinted then, and as he saw that Glorfindel only walked faster, turning around corners quicker than he liked, grabbed his arm and yanked roughly. “What was that about?!”</p><p>Glorfindel whirled around, eyes ablaze and a sneer on his lips, pushing back into Ecthelions space. “Fuck off.” He spat, his whole body vibrating with tension.</p><p>Ecthelion reeled back, he’d seen Glorfindel angry a few times but never at him, never like this, never this ugly. He opened and closed his mouth before irritation rose like bile in his throat.</p><p>“What is wrong with you?!” Ecthelion growled back, pushing right back, forehead to forehead, using the bit height he got on him to loom, instinctively raising his hackles, gripping Glorfindels shoulders tight and shaking him. Something flickered across his face that Ecthelion didn’t catch, but it ended with a snarl and then Glorfindel pushed him off. Ecthelion, surprised, lost balance, stumbled backwards but managed to grab the others arm, only to pull him with him. He smacked against an iron arch, rose thorns pressing through his clothes into his back.</p><p>Glorfindel came to a stop half an arm length above him, hands gripping the iron poles that framed the net on which the roses grew.</p><p>“What is wrong with me?” He repeated with a dangerous intensity Ecthelion only knew from the battlefield, and he realized, something between them was broken and the realization punched the air right out of him.</p><p>When did that happen? He hadn’t seen the rift before, had never felt at loss with Glorfindel before, his face had always been an open book, he’s always said what was on his mind right away. They had always been so in tune with each other. But now he had no idea what to think. Or what to feel. Valar, he thought, trying to breath, air catching in his throat, as saw the Vanyar above him, his face framed by the golden glow of his unruly hair, and a whole other image flashed in his head, that he thought he had buried deep deep down, to never surface again. Their positions reversed, golden hair spread like a halo on white sheets. Smiling, not this ugly snarl.</p><p>“Is none of your business, that much you made clear, I’d be happy if you’d keep to it now.” He said and Ecthelions eyes snapped up from his lips, to find his bright green eyes squinted, eyebrows drawn together.</p><p>“It is if you start a fight about it in public.” Ecthelion countered, thoughts racing but making no move to get up.</p><p>“It is if you’re endangering the stability of our city. For fucks sake, Laure, you can’t fight Rog like this!”</p><p>Glorfindel scowled, “Don’t you dare call me that. The stability of the city? That again?”, then scoffed. “Do you really think so little of me?”</p><p>Ecthelions gaze dropped involuntarily to Glorfindel's naked torso. “This doesn’t look like a friendly sparring.” He dragged his eyes back up. “Your back is bleeding from glass shards.”</p><p>“Valar, why am I even trying.” Glorfindel pushed himself up, turning away, suddenly sounding very very tired.</p><p>Ecthelion watched him sway, probably the wine catching up to him, seeing him curl his shoulders inward and dragging his hands through his face, and it’s taking all the air out of his sails. He stays on the ground for another minute, watching the light fade from his friends ruffled hair, leaving only the dim starlight, as darkness and quiet settled around them. The music in the main hall was barely more than a distant hum. The party must be over then, Ecthelion thought.</p><p>He watched Glorfindel stand still, eyes fixed on the moon that skimmed the mountain range in the distance, his usually great presence somehow diminished and Ecthelion feels like he did something wrong. What was it that he said? What was it that he didn’t understand? Should he apologize? His stomach weighed heavy and his throat still tasted sour. He upset him and it frustrated him, why couldn’t they just get along? Still - he can’t bring himself to say it. Not directly. He’s never been like that.</p><p>“Let’s get you home then. Dress your wounds.” he said instead, finally pushing himself up from the ground. Glorfindel stood with his hands by his side, facing away from him, not reacting.</p><p>“‘Laure” He said, laying a hand on his friends bare shoulder, soft and careful to avoid the cuts. Glorfindel shrugged it of.</p><p>“Leave me be, Ecthelion. I am tired.”</p><p>“It’s probably the wine. Come-”</p><p>“No.” Glorfindel interrupted him. “Its you.”</p><p>He looked down and took a step forward. Just out of reach he hesitated. Like having been slapped in the face, Ecthelion froze, a dull pain piercing a heart he thought well enough guarded.</p><p>Tired of him? In his mind he sees again how Glorfindel slammed the door in his face. Ice rushes through his veins, and he gives in to it, pulls the carefully melted part of him back into the ice, and balls his fists. Why do evenings like these always end in disasters?</p><p>Glorfindel must have finished his thought though, he shook his head and left without looking back.</p><hr/><p>Glorfindel wasn’t proud of this, of fleeing. How could he? He’s never been a coward, never run like this, but this wasn’t war. This wasn’t an enemy he could slay with his sword, this wasn’t an opponent he could smooth over with honeyed words, this was Ecthelion. Blue, keen eyes, sharp and biting like the ice, knowing him like no other, laying him bare with all but a single look, looking right through all his illusions and pretty words.</p><p>He rushed through the main hall of Egalmoths house without anyone bothering him and ran home. Between the aching longing in his chest and the cold words the one he can’t stop thinking about - the damn fountains everywhere - throws at him, he despaired.</p><p>How could he ever have hoped for love if his every word is a charm, how could it be any other way when the only one who he doesn’t dare use it on doesn’t seem to have anything more for him than friendly feelings, if any at all? He wondered how many of his bedfellows were only there because he accidentally charmed them. The feeling got to much and he felt the last of the threads that held him together come apart and he collapsed, head between a bush of flowers and vomited. His stomach heaved and clenched and tears shot up his eyes as he tried to pull his hair away, barely registering that he’s not wearing any shirt at all. Probably better, he thought and failed completely, hand slid away under him as another convulsion had him dubling over.</p><p>He didn’t remember when or how he made it home, but there was his bathtub and then he was naked and then he saw his bed.</p><p>The next day was torture. Elliel has no kindness in her heart, he decided. She opened the blind to his room with a vigorousity he wished she would show in battle. His whole body ached, his throat still felt sore.</p><p>“Breakfast is ready, my Lord.” Elliel said without any feeling at all and shut the door behind her loudly. He wondered what he'd done to earn her ire but peeled himself out of bed to get somewhat presentable.</p><p>There was still the meeting on deciding how to do the opening ceremony of the year that he had to attend to later in the day. He thought of Ecthelion close to him and put his food away, no way he could stomach any of it.</p><p>He makes it to the meeting and he suffers through it and he makes it back home without noticing much, his assistant trailing behind him. They didn’t get to do the opening ceremony, but neither did Rog, who spotted a black eye and a limp.</p><p>Ecthelion did though, but Glorfindel hadn’t looked at him and didn’t know how he felt about it.</p>
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